


Reaching For You

by ernyx



Series: BuckyNat fics (for ease of finding) [5]
Category: Marvel, Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A love story over many decades, Bucky deserves to be happy dammit, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Nat and Bucky are beautiful together, Nat criticizes herself too much, Natasha Romanov-centric, Sappy Ending, alright warnings first, also injury happens, buckynat - Freeform, but a little heartbreaking, but they're not explicit, hand holding, okay now the real tags, slight mentions of torture and brainwashing, the ending is stupidly sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 16:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7445617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ernyx/pseuds/ernyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you need a hand to hold.<br/>Sometimes you need to hold someone else's hand. But it's not always that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaching For You

**Author's Note:**

> lostsouldier prompted me on my Natasha blog: five times our muses almost hold hands, and the one time they do.

**one.**  


     In the Red Room days, Natalia knows that any sign of affection is weakness. She's gotten away with what little she's shown Ivan on his visits, but otherwise she keeps all emotions under wraps.  


     Perhaps she even fools herself into thinking that she doesn't have any.  


     But when she's transferred into the loving hands of the KGB, all of that goes to hell because of one man– the Winter Soldier. It's not that she's instantly attracted to him, thought he's certainly nice enough to look at, but it's through their working together on a thousand missions and learning about each other that their bond really cements. They're both hollow and damaged, and they seek solace in each other. Hushed words of reassurance when nobody is looking or listening, a small smile of support here and there. It's all they can afford.

     It's not often that a mission goes wrong with the two of them. If anything, they're known as Russia's most dangerous duo precisely for this reason. But one assassination goes spectacularly wrong– not because the target isn't killed, but because there's so much collateral damage in the process of getting out that the chances of international involvement and investigation skyrocket. (That's what happens when you're trying to kill two people under heavy security on a boat while undercover, but the KGB just wants results.)

     Natalia knows that they'll be punished harshly, and she also knows that the Winter Soldier will take more torture than she will, simply because he's been modified to withstand more. They sit silently, side-by-side, on the way back to the base, and her eyes flick over to his hands, clenched tightly in his lap. Her own moves in that direction for a moment before realizing that there are eyes on them and returning to its place.

      _Hang in there, James,_  she says silently, wishing that her words could reach him. _Survive for me, we'll get out of this place someday._

* * *

**two.**

     Natalia stares wide-eyed at the cryochamber, almost unable to process what she's seeing. She's known that the Winter Soldier disappears from time to time, but she always presumed it was on a difficult mission, one that left him with a gaunt face and hopeless eyes. She knew how hard it was to patch him up after those.

     But apparently they weren't _missions._  They were… this.

     He is frozen behind the glass, eyes closed, jaw tense. If he looks asleep, one would think that he was in the grip of a particularly bad nightmare, and perhaps that's accurate. She can't imagine what procedure they used to do this to him. But he'd survive. He always did.

     She knows now why she's being shown this now. This is _her_  punishment for her failings, for dragging the Winter Soldier down to her level, for failing her trainers, for everything. They knew of her affections and had made it abundantly clear that she couldn't keep them, even going as far as to find her a husband, and this is a reminder of what would happen if she didn't obey.

     Natalia reaches out to the pod, hand resting on the metal above where his own hand would be, and takes a deep breath.

      _It's okay. I won't do this anymore, I won't get you hurt,_  she thinks. _I won't make you suffer any more than you already have for me. I'll stay away from now on._  

* * *

**three.**

     She goes by Natasha now. Ivan used it as her pet-name before, but this is the first time that other people are calling her by that name, and it takes a little getting used to. It's better than the constant reminder of the orders barked at ‘Natalia' while still staying true to her identity (what little of it she has), so she goes with it.

     It's as Natasha that she finds out about “Bucky” Barnes, the Captain's old friend, and it just about breaks her heart. This is the James that she knew? He'd been so vibrant, so full of carefree smiles, she finds out, he'd been a loyal friend and a relentless flirt and… so much more than what the Wolf Ops had turned him into.

     She'd known this, theoretically, given that the Winter Soldier had been ‘acquired' by the KGB, rather than ‘created' like herself, but hearing it is still a shock.

     When he's finally subdued and brought in to try to break him of his brainwashing, he lies unconscious in one of the hospital beds in Stark's private facility and Natasha stares down at him. She can't help but think that he looks peaceful like this, so much more so than she's seen in him in a long time, and her chest tightens painfully.

     Steve, of course, won't leave _Bucky's_  side, and she knows that the man _he_  wasn't back isn't the same one that she knows– _knew_ – and loved, so when her hand flutters over James's, she pulls back. This isn't the time or place, and perhaps it will never be.

      _I hope you find happiness,_  she wishes as she walks away, _with or without me._

* * *

**four.**

     They've always been a perfect pair, flawless in a fight and seamless out of it, and perhaps it's no surprise that they fall back together before the rest of the Avengers are quite sure what's happened. They go from hesitantly feeling out each other's memories to desperately kissing each other in a matter of days, and Natasha gets an _unreal_  number or weird looks for being so openly loving and intimate. It's not that they're that prone to public displays of affection, though that's as much for the others' sakes as anything else, but even seeing Natasha snuggled up with someone was rare enough that seeing her leaning into James's embraces makes eyebrows go up.

     Everyone knows better than to complain, though.  


     (Except Clint, who is suspicious as hell and gives Bucky a thorough list of threats including evisceration, tarring and feathering, and turning him into a taxidermied target for arrow practice, if he ever hurts Nat. The latter, of course, instantly promises not to, as if it was ever a question.)

     Still, on formal occasions where the press is present, Natasha and James are far more reserved, letting him take on the role of Steve's best friend instead of her lover. She's already dubious in the eyes of the public, given her past, and she doesn't need to drag his reputation down any further. Let him have those who are more righteous stand up for him, and wait for it to wash over.

     She spots James by the punch bowl (he can't get drunk from something so weak, which means he's using it as an escape from the crowd) and walks over. She knows the press circuit isn't something he likes, but it's required to have him exonerated, and she would prefer if her boyfriend wasn't being pursued by the police.

     They share a smile and make small-talk as Natasha tries to distract him a little. She itches to grab his hand and steal him away from all the eyes here, the people speaking in hushed whispers behind their backs, but there's nothing that they can do so she clenches her hand around her glass and nods at what he's saying.

      _One day, we'll get out of here,_  she can't help but think, just like she did all those years ago. _You still have a chance to be happy again, and if I can, I'll help you get there._

* * *

**five.**

     Some days are objectively terrible, like the attack that lands her in the hospital looking like she's been through a shredder. She's not really worried about the inevitable scars or even the pain, but she _hates_  being out of commission, especially when her friends are still fighting. Plenty of the Avengers are still out on the battlefield (hopefully not looking as much like mincemeat as she is) and she wants to be there with them.

      _What if they get hurt? I can't watch their backs from here. I need to keep them safe. Why did I have to get stuck here while they're out there risking their lives?_

     She obsesses over her thoughts as the nurse comes around to essentially drench her in hydrogen peroxide and clean out all the shards of glass from her skin. At least there wasn't much scrap metal from the bomb that went off near her, just a few shattered windows, but she still has to get a tetanus shot and is given a course of antibiotics. With wounds this extensive, it'll be a miracle if something doesn't get infected.

     It's a few hours later that the rest of the Avengers stumble in, some worse for wear than others, and Natasha looks them over critically. They don't look to be too hurt, and she lets out a sigh of relief. _They're okay. They survived._

     Immediately finding herself at risk of thoughts like ‘ _they're fine without me so maybe I'm not needed_ ', she closes her eyes and tries to relax and sleep. Her body desperately needs it after being through so much trauma, and she knows that the others will get the medical care they need.

     Natasha manages to doze a little when a touch awakens her. James is sitting next to her, eyebrows scrunched together in worry, and his pinkie is touching hers, careful not to contact any of the gashes on her hands. She smiles at him, not caring about the way it pulls at the cut on her face, and tiredly blows him a kiss.

     All she wants to do is curl up with him, but they both know that would be immensely painful for her, so they settle in for the night just like that, with only their pinkies touching and hoping that the serum in her will let her heal soon.

      _No matter how wounded I am, whatever is left of me is yours._  She lets her eyes close. _If you'll have me, I'll always be by your side._

* * *

**plus one.**

     Steve doesn't really celebrate his birthday, but since America celebrates it for him, Natasha and Bucky drag him to the roof of a skyscraper (Nat asks that he not ask how she got access), and they sit on either side of him, watching the fireworks. They light up the sky in brilliant colors and shapes, explosions beautiful instead of destructive for a change.

     It's worth it to see the way that Steve's mouth softens into a smile, the way his eyes twinkle and shine, reflecting the light. 

     All in all, it's probably a better gift than the ones he got from the others.

     Natasha and James look at each other across him, glad that they chose to do this, and return to looking at the night sky until the last of the firecrackers goes off and a semblance of quiet and stillness returns. Steve thanks them graciously, and makes his way back home. The lovers scoot together, now that the space between them isn't filled, and lean into each other for warmth. Even in July, the temperature difference between day and night can catch people off guard.

     “James?” she murmurs quietly.  
     “Hmm?” he turns to look at her.  
     “Thank you.” Natasha smiles.  
     “You're welcome,” he quips. “ I mean, what for?”  
     “For being here. With me.”  
     “Dork.” James laughs. “Of course I'm going to be here.”  
     “I mean it.”  
     “So do I. Anywhere you go, I go with you.”  
     “Stalker,” Natasha retorts, and they both giggle.

     “Natasha?”  
     “Hmm?”  
     “I love you.”  
     “Dork.” She kisses his cheek. “I love you too.”  
     “I mean it,” he parrots.  
     “So do I. More than anything.”

     In the summer night, they kiss, long and slow, chaste and sweet, and Natasha pillows her head on James's shoulder.

     “James?”  
     “Yeah?”  
     “Stay with me?”  


     He knows that note of insecurity well, and he hugs her close.  
     “Always.”

     She twines their hands together, and they stare out over the late night traffic, content in their own little world. Morning will come and break the spell, but for now, they're untouchable, just the two of them.

      _Love is for children,_  she had said once. _But we are children together, and I owe him everything._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments? Feedback? I'd love to hear it! Drop me a line either here or on my tumblr (@artificiallyimplantedmemories) !


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